


the a-to-z of you and me

by capebretons



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capebretons/pseuds/capebretons
Summary: There is no part of Mitch that Auston does not love.(Or, an alphabetical love story about Mitch Marner's body.)





	

_ A  _ is for ankles. Mitch's are pale and knobbier than most, and they often end up in Auston's lap when they're watching the Jays game at Auston's place. It's slow, first, a thing that might be friendly, really, except nothing Mitch does is ever without flirtation. He first puts his bare feet in Auston's lap with a slight smirk, daring Auston to shove them off, knowing Auston won't.

They watch the game in silence, and somewhere in the seventh inning, one of Auston's hands fall to the protruding bone of Mitch's ankle. Mitch, not as brave as he looks, stutters a little under the touch, but relaxes soon enough.

"A little jumpy today, huh?" Auston can't help it, and rubs his thumb over Mitch's bare skin. 

"Always a little jumpy around you," Mitch shoots back, eyes still on the TV. 

Auston snorts at that, squeezes Mitch's ankle, and gets up to get a drink. 

 

_ B  _ is for bellybutton, because when Mitch lies down on the floor of his apartment, his t-shirt rides up, and Auston can see it, and he wants to stop staring, he really does, but he's just trying to commit this moment to memory, in case he never gets this again.

Mitch is bitching about Tkachuk, because Auston knows him too, and it's easier when you both know your target. It's after a Calgary scrimmage, and Chucky's always been cocky, but Jesus Christ, Auston had wanted to shove his stick in his ear.

"I mean, he's  _ good _ ," Mitch is sulking, because he's a brat, and Auston thinks he might be in love with him. He's still staring at his bellybutton. "But he's gonna get himself killed. Christ."

"He'll be okay," Auston shrugs, and then lies down next to Mitch. He doesn't feel so tall when they're lying next to each other; Mitch doesn't feel so tiny. Down here, on the cold hardwood, they might be anybody else than who they are.

Auston's glad Mitch is Mitch.

 

_ C  _ is for collarbone. Mitch wears a chain, because of course he does. It's simple, silver, falling right into the dip of his clavicle. and it always seems to catch the fluorescent lights of the locker room, sparkling and teasing and so fucking  _ Mitch  _ it makes Auston ache. He wants to feel it under his tongue as he sucks hickeys into Mitch's throat, wants the sting of metal to remind him of Mitch, because what doesn't?

Sometimes, when he's lacing up his skates, Mitch will take the chain between his lips, and Auston has to take a few deep breaths. Like, deep ones. Yoga breaths.

Then Mitch will look up, and the chain will fall from his lips as he asks Auston if he wants to come over later. Auston always does. And it's when he does that he thinks of how much he longs for this, perfect nights after perfect practices, where Mitch's feet are in his lap and that chain finds its way to Mitch's mouth.

 

_ D  _ is for dick. Because this is a locker room, and you are mistaken if you think Auston's noble enough to look away.

_ God,  _ he wants Mitch.

 

_ E  _ is for eyelashes. They're long and brown and when Mitch presses his head against Auston's arm in exhaustion on the plane back from Anaheim, he can feel Mitch blinking. 

"You have really long eyelashes," Auston says, stupid and stupid and stupid.

Mitch pulls back, blinking slow and sleepy up at Auston. "You know what a butterfly kiss is?"

Auston's chest is so tight as he shakes his head. "No."

Mitch smiles then, sheepish, with the faint blush of pink on the tips of his ears. "It's like, when you put your eyes against someone's cheek, and you blink, and your eyelashes, I don't know,  _ flutter,  _ against the person's face. I used to give them to my mom all the time, when I was little."

Auston Matthews loves Mitch Marner. This is not up for debate. He loves him with so, so much of himself, that there doesn't seem to be much left that doesn't belong to Mitch.

And then-

Mitch's face is so close, close enough that his breath is warm on Auston's lips, and anybody on the team could see them, but Auston doesn't care, can't care, because that's Mitch's cologne and those are Mitch's eyelashes, fluttering against his face.

 

_ F  _ is for fingers. Mitch Marner has magic hands and the whole league knows it, but Auston would love for everyone to pay a little more attention to the fingers. They're not long, really, or overly large like a lot of people in this sport, but every time he high-fives Auston, Auston imagines just holding his hand in his, and then has to go drink some water.

 

_ G  _ is for the little flash of grey in Mitch's eyes. It's light and quick, and it's only there when he's being an asshole to Auston on purpose. They're at Whole Foods together, because it's really all they do over the weekend now that they have to actually care about their bodies.

Mitch just keeps picking up increasingly phallic vegetables, then waggling his eyebrows at Auston in a way too funny to be suggestive, then dropping them all into the grocery cart. They end up with four bananas, six zucchinis, and one squash, and Mitch looks too pleased with himself.

And then they have to stand at the cash register, watching as the old lady scans each one, and it's not as funny when it adds up to fifty bucks. Auston makes Mitch pay, because this was Mitch's joke, and Mitch's eyes are flashing grey as he pulls out his credit card.

 

_ H  _ is hips. Mitch's hips are in Auston's hands, bony and narrow, and Mitch's forehead's fallen against Auston's shoulder some time ago. They're at a party in Port Credit, which feels like too long of a drive to go to a party of some girl Mitch knew in juniors. But Mitch is drunk now, off the real shit, and he's slurring, he's stumbling, and he's pulled Auston away from a conversation with the littlest Strome so he can tell Auston just how drunk he is.

Auston's not quite sober, either, so he finds the bravery to hold Mitch's hips, lifting his t-shirt just enough to press his hands to the pale warmth of Mitch's skin. It feels too perfect to be real.

"I'm gonna puke tomorrow," Mitch's words barely sound like English, they're so runny. "For real, Auston, it's-"

"It's okay," Auston hears himself saying, too tender, too soft. "I'll take care of you. Mitch, I'll take such good care of you, I promise I will, I'll-"

He stops talking once Mitch looks back up at him, his smile all teeth, and Auston squeezes his hips when Mitch leans up to kiss him.

It's hurried and painfully earnest. It feels a bit like Mitch is trying to eat him, and it's so wet and messy that Auston doesn't think he'd mind that much at all. Because those are Mitch's lips, those are his hips, and Auston is his.

He has to pull Mitch into the Uber that night, both of them giggling and still kissing when words fail them. Mitch's head lolls onto Auston's shoulder once again, and Mitch is talking about some great time he had in London, but all Auston can do is touch his mouth. All he can do is make sure it was real.

 

_ I  _ is for instep. It's warm, pressed up against Auston's calf in his bed the night of that party, and Auston wakes up to the pressure of it. It's simple and it's beautiful and it's everything he's ever wanted - this boy next to him, with those eyelashes still against his cheeks, fingers stretched out towards Auston. And even though Mitch is still asleep, Auston takes his hand. He squeezes it once, soft, as not to wake him up. 

He's never been all that patient, though, so soon enough, he's pressing a kiss to his hair, locking his fingers in the soft brown. Mitch makes a soft noise, content, and rolls on to his stomach. Those eyes open, slow, and-

"What the fuck?" Mitch blurts out, and leaps away from Auston like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Auston, what the fuck?"

"We," is all Auston can spit out, because Mitch looks horrified, looks  _ disgusted _ , and Auston can't say much else in the face of all that. "Should we not have?"

" _ No _ ," Mitch says, so honest and vehement it makes all of Auston cold. "Jesus Christ,  _ no. _ What the fuck."

And then it's Auston looking down at his own hands, and he feels too big, he wants to be so small Mitch can't see him anymore.  _ Of course  _ he fucked this up. Of course Mitch doesn't want him. What the hell was he thinking? Mitch Marner is a complicated, beautiful,  _ amazing  _ synthesis of everything Auston's ever wanted, and how could Mitch want him back?

" _ Fuck _ ," Mitch is saying under his breath, and he's pulling on his shirt from last night, and even from the other side of the bed, Auston can see how his hands are shaking.

 

_ J  _ is for jaw.

Auston doesn't see the hickey he left there until Mitch comes to practice the next day. He doesn't really remember leaving one. He doesn't remember much of anything from that night.

It's kind of a beautiful bruise, really. Right under Mitch's ear, where his jaw meets his throat, lilac and pink. He wishes he remembered.

Mitch doesn't look at him the whole week.

 

_ K  _ is for knuckles. The hickey might be gone, but Mitch's hands will be bruised, soon enough. They're bleeding now, after Kesler tried some shit, and Mitch defended himself. 

Auston's watching, unblinking, as he gets them bandaged up. Mitch is stony-faced, watching the tape loop over his palms. They didn't win this one. They didn't think they would. They never do. It's just the same exhaustion, the same hope for  _ more,  _ the same knowledge that  _ more  _ doesn't always mean  _ enough. _

Maybe some bruised knuckles would do Auston some good.

 

_ L  _ is for the liver in Mitch Marner that must be screaming for help at the moment.

The kid can  _ drink. _

It's gotta be his fourth, at least, of what everyone's calling  _ kamikazes  _ but all Auston can see is triple-sec and vodka. Mitch is drinking like a goddamn Russian, and it hurts, but Auston's still a little in love with him, even after everything. But yeah, he's not going to pretend it doesn't hurt that Mitch is spending every spare moment with Dicky, and Willie's looking at Auston like Auston might shatter apart at any moment.

He didn't realize how obviously he must have loved Mitch. God. He must have looked like such a  _ moron _ , trailing after this beautiful boy like he had a chance in hell of being good enough for Mitchell Marner. Auston never had a prayer, and everybody knew it. Everybody knew it.

"Stop pining," Willie says blatantly, as they're watching from the bar as Mitch does a body shot off of Prusty's perfectly manscaped chest. It's super erotic, and Auston really doesn't want to look, but this might be all he gets. He wants to be selfish, just for this moment. He deserves that much.

"'M not pining," Auston says, tearing his eyes away to stare at his beer. It's not any better. All he can think of is doing a body shot off Mitch, sliding his tongue over his abs, over his bellybutton, going lower-

Okay, he's pining.

"I don't know what happened," Willie's saying, and of  _ course  _ he can hold his liquor. Of course he's drinking  _ liquor.  _ What an adult. "But it's not too late to fix it."

Auston wants to laugh, wants to tell him everything, but he looks back over at Mitch, and it's like he can't talk. "I know," he finally forces himself to say. Because he knows it's not too late. Mitch is the most open, forgiving, generous human being Auston has ever had the intense and deep pleasure of meeting, but.

Auston can't look at him as anything but the night they had, those few moments of perfect peace, with Mitch's foot against Auston's calf, curled up tight and small in Auston's bed. He'll talk to Mitch, of course he will, but he can't right now.

He and Willie watch Mitch order another drink. This one's Maple-Leafs-Blue, in something shaped like a fishbowl, and it's honestly a little depressing, watching Mitch light up at a fucking  _ drink _ , but Auston won't complain. He's not allowed to.

Finally, Willie gets him to think about anything other than this, and they're talking about their favorite childhood story books. They both liked  _ Ferdinand the Bull  _ best, and Auston has to explain the complexity of the  _ Strega Nona  _ books, and it's a whole thing, because then they're talking about  _ Good Night Moon _ , and suddenly Mitch is there.

"Oh, fuck," he's saying, his eyes still bright under the alcohol making him hazy. "I loved... What was it? Um. Shit. Oh! I loved  _ When You Give a Mouse a Cookie.  _ That was the shit."

"Of course you loved that one," Gards rolls his eyes. "It's about a bratty little fucker who wants everything."

Mitch shrugs. "That's not a bad thing, to want it all."

"It can be," Auston hears himself say, and honest to God, he almost rolls his eyes at himself. What a fucking  _ lame  _ thing to say.

But Mitch looks stricken, horrified. "That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Auston asks, tilting his head, and everyone else present seems to realize that this is no longer an open conversation, and they all start talking about Mo's new girl, just out of earshot.

"I don't want  _ everything, _ " Mitch says, like that should be obvious. "I only want one thing."

"Clearly," Auston replies easily, downs the rest of his beer, and calls a taxi.

 

_ M  _ is for Mitch's mouth. It's in a thin, hard line, the next morning at the door to Auston's apartment. He's looking up at Auston, with  _ those  _ eyes, like he's nervous.

"Hi," is all Auston can say. "What's - Why are you here?"

"I don't want one thing," Mitch says, which doesn't really answer the question. "I want a lot of things."

"You don't have to, like,  _ explain _ yoursel-"

"No, I kinda do," Mitch interrupts, and there's that grey little flash, and Auston shuts the fuck up. "That was a fucked up thing to do, to fuck you, then leave you like that. It's not - that's not what I wanted to happen."

"Okay," Auston says, because he feels like he should be doing something, and the only thing he wants to do is hold Mitch, but Mitch seems like he has a point, so he's gonna let him ride this out.

"I mean, I  _ wanted  _ it to happen," is what Mitch says next, and Auston's on a four-second delay, because  _ what. _

"You  _ wanted _ that?" He's fighting off some disbelief.

Mitch blinks at him, like Auston's the one being a real surprise today. " _ Yeah _ , I wanted that. Have you seen yourself? Have you  _ met  _ you?" He pauses, lets out a distressed laugh that makes Auston's knees a little weak. "Day one, I wanted you. If that wasn't clear, from me absolutely throwing myself at you at every possible opportunity."

"I thought," Auston says, his voice much softer than it should be, "I thought that was just  _ you.  _ I've, um, I've seen you, with Dylan and Connor and Prusty, and-"

Mitch's face falls. "Oh. You thought you weren't...?"

"I guess," Auston shrugs, helpless, and too confused for these almost-sentences. "I don't know. I guess I just - I didn't think I was anybody special to you."

Mitch actually rolls his eyes, makes the most  _ disgusted, exasperated  _ face, and actually scoffs. "God, you are dumb. You are  _ dumb _ . You are the most - Auston, you're amazing. I'm, like, constantly in awe of how you can even  _ exist. _ And I wanted to do it right. I wanted to be so annoying that you just gave in and kissed me or something, because that's how these things usually go for me, but I fucked up, and I got wasted, and I treated you wrong." A beat. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed. But I was  _ mortified. _ I had to leave before you told me to."

There's a thousand words in Auston, just waiting for the go-ahead, so ready to tell Mitch how precious and special and perfect he is to Auston, but all that comes out is, "I never would have told you to leave."

Mitch's face softens into something gentler, a little softer. "Yeah?"

Auston nods, and he knows his face must look  _ so  _ stupid, because he might be about to do something stupid, but he's so high on this, he feels like he can do anything. "Yeah. I love you, Mitch, I don't think I was about to let you out of my bed."

And Mitch's mouth turns up, finally, sweet and shy, and this time it's Auston who steps forward, presses his mouth to Mitch's in the gentlest way he knows how.

 

_ N  _ is for nose, which is currently pressed into Auston's chest, because they're not even making out or anything, just watching TV on Auston's sofa. Mitch crawled into his lap halfway through this episode of  _ Letterkenny _ , his eyes not even on the screen. Auston wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in closer, and he can feel the gentle up-down of Mitch's breath, and even through his thin shirt, he can feel Mitch's eyelashes.

"I love you, too," Mitch says, soft, and Auston pulls him a little closer.

 

_ O  _ is for the soft shape of Mitch's mouth when Auston slides inside him, and he makes the most beautiful, the most  _ pained _ noise, and Auston kisses him.

He's glad he's sober for this.

 

_ P  _ is for his pupils, blown out when it's all over and they're all cleaned up, and Mitch is still breathing hard.

"How," Mitch pants. "Are you so good at that?"

 

_ Q _ is for Mitch's quads, which yeah, Auston left hickeys on them as he made his way to Mitch's dick, because Mitch is  _ his _ now, and the people need to know. He just never really thought about the reaction in the Leafs locker room.

" _ Oh _ ," is all Bozie says when he sees, and then  _ everyone _ sees, and it's deafening.

Dicky just laughs, for way longer than necessary, as Mo and Gards blush like the giant virgins they are. Willie just nudges Auston on his way out of the locker room, eyebrows arched delicately. "See you two have made up," he says, his voice low so nobody else hears.

"Fuck you," Auston says on instinct, but they're both grinning. When Auston turns back to the room, Mitch is blushing furiously, but he also looks a little proud.

 

_ R  _ is for Mitch's ribs, which appear for one quick second as Mitch stretches his arms up, shirtless, in Auston's bed. He's sleeping over at Auston's more often than not, these days. Neither of them are particularly bothered by that. Auston learned how to clean up after himself in Switzerland, and Mitch's billets did his laundry for him, so. There's a bit of a divide, but that's not to say Mitch isn't trying. But Mitch has very recently learned to do two separate loads, make a decent scrambled egg, and give a stellar blowjob.

Leaps and bounds, this kid.

 

_ S  _ is for Mitch's sunburned shoulders, earned after he fell asleep in the Arizona sun. It had been a pool day back home, with all of Auston's friends from middle school over to say hey. He'd never really lost touch, always home in the summers, and it's kind of the best thing ever that he can show off Mitch down here. You don't get a lot of boys like Mitch down here.

And Mitch is handling it like a pro - everybody here loves him. Auston's parents think he's  _ very nice, Auston  _ even though they've met him a million times before, and Auston's sisters think he's hot, which is not news. It's just - it's nice that other people can see in Mitch what Auston sees every day.

The sun set a long time ago, though, and it's just them in Auston's back yard, nothing but them and the soft music floating from the speakers and the stars above them.

"How are you not sick of me yet?" Mitch says, after about a half hour of silence.

Auston makes a face. "Dude, what?"

Mitch blushes, though he probably doesn't realize it, and his face matches his shoulders. "I don't know. I know I'm a lot. It's just kind of impressive that you're not totally over me."

"I've always been impressive, haven't I?" Auston deadpans, and it makes Mitch laugh, so that's the end of that.

 

_ T  _ is for tongue. Auston has  _ really  _ taught him how to use it.

 

_ U  _ is for, yeah, Mitch is under his skin. It's a blow, really, to realize how often Auston thinks about him. He's on the treadmill, he thinks about how their one-year-anniversary is coming up. He's buying gum, he wonders if soulmates exist, is Mitch is his. He's driving home from Cluner's, he stops at a CVS to buy Mitch flowers that Mitch will just kill anyway, because even though he knows how to make himself a real dinner now, that doesn't mean he's still a fully-functional human being.

Yeah. Auston believes in soulmates.

 

_ V  _ is for Mitch's veins, purplish-blue under the pale skin of his forearms. Auston traces them when he gets a little nervous about his future, about his team's future. He and Mitch are lucky, he knows. They get to be on the same team. They get to play with each other. And Auston wants that forever, not just for the next year-and-a-half.

The realization that he wants Mitch  _ forever  _ really isn't as shocking as it should be. 

Auston just pauses, nods to himself, and goes back to running a finger over his boyfriend's veins. Mitch lets him, with the smallest smile on his face, because he knows this soothes Auston like nothing else. He knows how loud it gets in Auston's head, sometimes.

 

_ W  _ is for Mitch's wrist, because he comes home one day, and there's a tiny little 34  _ right there,  _ where anybody in the world could see, and Auston almost has a panic attack.

"The  _ fuck  _ is that," Auston says, and he feels like he's in a cartoon, when his eyes pop out of his skull. 

"It's a 34," Mitch says simply. 

"That's my number," Auston says, and there's this terrifying feeling-

"Not necessarily," Mitch shrugs. "A lot of people wore this number. Charles Barkley. Bo Jackson. Shaq. Nolan Ryan. All great inspirations of mine, who inspire me to play hard every day. Every time I look at it, every time the city looks at it, we'll all see someone who inspires me. For them, it's any one of them. For me, though-"

"Homie," Auston says, because he and Mitch never got into  _ baby  _ or  _ honey _ , but will call each other  _ dude  _ and  _ homie  _ until they die. "They'll all know it's me."

"Don't get a big head about it," Mitch scoffs. "It's  _ not  _ you. It's Hakeem Olajuwon, NBA superstar-"

"Mitch," Auston says, because he's half-terrified. "They'll know it's me."

Finally, Mitch softens, and he offers this hopeful smile, and says, "Then they know it's you."

 

_ X  _ marks the spot, X marks the tattoo, because after Auston got over the initial shock of it all, it's where he kisses Mitch last before he falls asleep every night.

 

_ Y  _ is yeah, Auston's gonna marry him one day. He bought the ring on a day off with Dicky, who knows style, because Mitch deserves the best. And yeah, they're young, but Mitch got a fucking tattoo. He believes in them.

Auston believes, too.

  
_Z_ is - _fuck_ Z, because Mitch said yes.

**Author's Note:**

> No body parts begin with z! This was a struggle!!!!!!!
> 
> Based off a book with the same title, but a much sadder story.
> 
> I hope I did them justice.


End file.
